


Roses

by xikra1648



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, BFF Ned, College, F/M, Left Reader's feelings unsaid, MJ is BFF, Ned is just awesome, Ned isn't just a good friend, Part 2 is three years after part 1, Part 2 wasn't planned, Possibly Unrequited Love, Potential part 3, Precious Peter Parker, Sappy Ending, She's awesome too, Songfic, Sortof, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Up to you to decide that, he's the best friend, really sappy ending, teen drama, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-05-20 15:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14896892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xikra1648/pseuds/xikra1648
Summary: You had been best friends since you were kids, and Peter had been in love with you for just as long.  He was planning on telling you at prom, he had a whole plan he was setting in motion and he knew you'd go with him if he asked.  Then...then things changed...then he died and came back to see just how hurt you were by his death...It was going to hurt, but this was for the best.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It was confirmed by Joe Russo that Peter was the only one that felt his death, and that was because he sensed it was coming. His accelerated healing tried to stop it so it took longer too. So, I figure everybody would be able to move on from dying a bit faster than he could, but there would still be some aches and pains he would have to deal with for a while.
> 
> The title comes from the song Roses by Against the Current, the lyrics at the beginning and end are from this very song. It’s heartbreaking and beautiful. I suggest listening to it just because it’s a beautiful song.

# Roses

_Waited all night for you to come home_

_I always hated sleeping alone_

_Watching the roses wither away_

_Wishing my memories would die out the same_

_I waited all night, yeah, you never came._

Peter had been in love with you for as long as he could remember.  Ever since you were kids and you wrestled him to the ground and forced him to eat dirt, he had been so pathetically in love with you, and he knew it too.  Problem was, he was certain you didn’t feel the same way.  You were beautiful, had guys asking you out all the time, and only had one or two weekends a month where you didn’t have a date planned.  Then there were the boyfriends you’d had, those months Peter had to swallow his jealousy and the clenching in his chest because the pain was worth it as long as you were happy.

This weekend was a bit different, he knew that when you called him over to your aunt’s apartment to study as you babysat your little cousins.  So, he left his after-school patrol early, freshened up and changed, then dashed down the few blocks to your aunt’s apartment.  He knocked on the door and you let him in just as your aunt reminded you of her _no boys_ rule.

“Maybe I should-“

“Oh, hi Peter,” your aunt greeted with a smile as she finished fiddling with one of her earrings, “Here to study?”

“Yeah, but if-“ Peter was worried about breaking your aunt’s rule, but that concern changed to a disconcerted pout after your aunt reassured him it was fine.

“Oh, it’s fine, I know you’re safe,” your aunt smiled as she grabbed her jacket from the coat rack and picked up her purse, “Call if you need anything, there’s money for food on the table.”

_Safe_?  The _hell_ did that mean?  You didn’t think that too, did you?  You knew he was Spider-Man, you couldn’t-

“Make yourself comfortable at the table, I gotta go check on the baby and Alice quick,” you instructed before making your way down the hall to see the baby still dozing in his crib, and Alice was in the living room watching _Moana_ for the _millionth_ time.  You grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge when you got back, placing them down on the table for yourself and Peter before sitting down and flipping your statistics textbook open to the proper page and getting to work.

It was your senior year of high school, and Peter was kicking himself because he couldn’t help thinking that you would make such a good mom someday.  The way you dealt with little Alice when she got impatient, and carefully holding the baby with one arm as you walked around the kitchen and gently bounced him to get him back to sleep.  As he thought this, he couldn’t help but remember that, based on personal experience, he’d just be _Uncle Peter_ in that scenario.  You were never going to look at him the way he looked at you.  He made his peace with that.

He just wished he had worked up the nerve to tell you before all _this_ happened, that he’d taken the time to tell you before he jumped off the bus to deal with that spaceship hovering over the city.  You wished him luck, helped Ned create a distraction, and the way you furrowed your brow in concern as you told him to be careful made him silently promise to get back to you – no matter what it took.

Then he ended up on a _completely_ different planet, too far away from Karen’s servers to reach her.  That was where he needed to be, he knew that, but that didn’t help the fact that his heart was back on Earth, sitting in the apartment with Aunt May as you waited for him to come back.  He had so many to get back to, he couldn’t let them down, but your face was the last clear thought he had as he faded away. 

It hurt.  Everyone else just _faded away_ then came back, no permanent harm done.  Maybe it was because they were older, maybe it was because he was the only one that actually _felt_ his death, but he was the only one that was still struggling months later.  He would jump awake in the middle of the night as he relived his death in his dreams, and every time he would run his tired hands through his hair before clutching at his scalp as he leaned forward with his elbows on his bent knees.  He wanted to call you, he _desperately_ needed to call you, but he couldn’t.  It was three in the morning, the only phone call you’d be taking at three in the morning was from a boyfriend.  So, he’d settle for just sitting there the rest of the night as exhausted, silent tears fell from his cheeks.

You were so worried about Peter, he kept insisting he was fine, but you knew better.  You knew he wasn’t sleeping, but no matter how many times you told him to call you he _wouldn’t_.  You hated seeing him like this, you just didn’t know what to do anymore.  It was like he was trying to distance himself from you, like he was pulling away, and you spent the rest of senior year trying to get him back.  Every time you tried he would pull away, no matter what you tried doing.  You even invited him over to study when you were babysitting for your aunt.  Every time he would _be there if he could leave his patrol_ , every time you would keep checking the news as you watched _Moana_ with your cousin, and every time he was a no-show.

By the last time, only days before prom, you were curled up on the couch with your chin on your knees and your arms wrapped around your legs.  You were heartbroken, the last time Alice saw someone with that look was when her dad went away earlier that year.  You kept saying Peter wasn’t your boyfriend, but Alice wasn’t convinced.  She thought you were just lying so your aunt would let you have him over when you babysat.

You barely saw Peter, you only knew he was moving away after the school year because Ned told you.  Peter was officially an Avenger, so he’d be moving to the Compound after the school year.  Would you ever see him again?  Was that why he was pulling away from you?  He didn’t seem to be distancing himself from Ned at all, and he was spending some time with MJ too.  You tried telling yourself you were imagining things, that Peter was just busy, but your long series of unanswered texts proved you weren’t.  You couldn’t imagine life without him.

When you were young, you thought you would get married and live your grown-up life as _Mrs. Parker._   You were older, you knew that wasn’t going to happen, but Peter was always _there_ when you imagined the future.  Even if it was a long-distance friendship, with constant messaging, regular phone and Skype calls, and sending each other silly souvenirs from wherever you were living, Peter was _always_ part of your life in the future.  Now that it was looking like you were wrong, and that this would be the time he pulled away from you – _consciously_ deciding to distance himself – you found yourself in a shroud of depression.  The world became gray, you would pick at your food and take a few bites before tossing the rest, you couldn’t focus on school work.  The only thing you clearly registered was that ache in your heart as it clenched.

Last year you learned people can die from heartbreak, it was called _broken heart syndrome_ and was caused by stressful situations.  Symptoms included chest pain, but because it was triggered by illness or a surgery, you doubted you were actually suffering from it.  That didn’t mean you felt any better.

“He’s just going through some stuff right now, he’ll be back-“ Ned tried to console you after you voiced your concerns.  You used to have a regular study session with Peter, one that inevitably turned into binging Netflix and eating pizza, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be alone.  You asked Ned to join you, and he waited until the food showed up to ask just why you invited him when Peter was supposed to be there.

“But what if he _doesn’t_?” you replied, dropping the two pizza boxes on the coffee table as you continued, “What if this is it?  What if I never talk to him again and he’s gone forever?”

Ned’s shoulders slumped as his entire demeanor changed.  He looked up at you with remorseful eyes, jaw clenched as he frowned like he knew something.

_He knew something._

“Tell me,” you ordered, hands on your hips, eyes still glistening with the threat of tears and lips firm as you kept your chin from wobbling as your inevitable sobs came closer and closer to fruition.

“I can’t!  I promised!” Ned protested, trying desperately to keep his promise to Peter no matter how much he wanted to tell you.  He wanted to tell you _everything._   How much Peter loved you, that he was distancing himself so he could just leave without saying goodbye, that he actually thought it was _better_ this way.  That just before that whole thing with the aliens Peter was going to ask you to prom, he was going to beg Mr. Stark to keep an eye on the city so Peter could give you the perfect night out and tell you how much he loved you.  That Peter’s plans all changed not when he died, but when he came back and saw how hurt you were when he died.  That he was pulling away so that, when he did die, you wouldn’t hurt so much.  That the stubborn jackass was so _convinced_ it was better this way, that even May couldn’t convince him this was stupid, that MJ was trying to get Peter to just talk to you for your sake, that MJ noticed how it was killing both of you and she wanted it to stop. 

Ned wanted to tell you _everything_ , it broke his own heart to see you two like this.  You were his best friends, you were more like _family_ , but he promised not to tell you.  Your angry teary-eyed glare fell with your firm stance before you sat on the couch next to your friend.  You couldn’t ask him to break his promise, you couldn’t do that to Ned.  He didn’t deserve that, no matter how angry you were.  He was already putting himself in a tough position, trying to stay friends with you when his best friend was trying to keep you at a distance.  You didn’t want to make things any harder, but seeing you so broken killed Ned.  You were the tough one of the trio.  Ned was the funny one, Peter was the shy one, and you were the tough one.  That was how things always were, but the way you leaned against him as you started to sniffle and curled into a helpless little ball as he tried to hug away your tears just killed him.

“Do you think he’ll leave without saying goodbye?”  You were quiet, hoarse from trying to swallow your sobs.

With one last look at you during graduation, swallowing everything as he reminded himself he’d rather break your heart like this so you could eventually get angry at him and move on, instead of the alternative, Peter threw the last of his things into the car and let Happy drive him to his new home.

_I miss the long nights under street lights_

_When our hearts were made of gold_

_I miss the feeling that we had then_

_We were never growing old_

_Yeah, I miss it all_


	2. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years. It was three years before you saw Peter again, at Ned's birthday party. Enough time had passed for the pain and anger to pass, you were still young but you were old enough to move on.
> 
> Well...not entirely...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Named after The Chainsmokers Closer ft. Halsey.  
> I’m so sorry this took so much longer than planned. Between school and my muse wanting me to write something entirely different, and trying to find an internship…it’s been busy…
> 
> I, like the featured Rea, am short, 5’3” to be exact.
> 
> Last of all, Peter Parker’s official strength is widely considered ‘untested/unknown,’ cause he’s supposed to have the proportionate strength of a spider, but he’s also lifted things he shouldn’t be able to if that was true. Since the spider that bit him was radiated, and radiation made the fucking Hulk, it’s reasonable to say that he has the proportionate strength of the radiated spider and not a regular spider.

# Closer

## Roses Pt. 2

_You look as good as the day I met you_

_I forget just why I left you, I was insane_

_Stay and play that Blink-182 song_

_That we beat to death in Tuscon, okay_

_I know it breaks your heart_

_Moved to the city in a broke down car_

_And four years, no call_

_Now I’m looking pretty in a hotel bar_

_And I can’t stop_

_No, I can’t stop_

Peter hadn’t been sure he’d make it, with his mission in Bogota turning into a complete _disaster_ that he, Sam, and Bucky managed to limp away from after that jet crashed to the ground – with _them still on it._   Peter and Bucky had managed to get Sam off the jet first, with him being completely human he was at the greatest risk, before making desperate jumps for their own lives, but they still had cuts and bruises that needed mending.  Hell, Peter still had the yellowing remnants of a bruise from where the Red Hulk punched him right in the face and Shuri angrily made her way to the Compound to fix Bucky’s arm.

Still, he made it to Ned’s birthday party, first non-Avengers and non-Stark Industries party Peter had been to since high school – _three years ago._   He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, with the exception of alcohol, and likely having to web-sling back to his own apartment.  Still, it would be worth it.  The parties at the Compound were fun, he supposed, but just about everyone had a date and those who didn’t were paired off with each other, with the exception of himself.  It would be nice to be somewhere that didn’t matter.

Ned had invited Peter by habit, they barely got to spend any time together anymore and the hero was almost always in a different country for a life-or-death mission for every important holiday.  Ned wasn’t angry about it, Peter was making the best out of his complicated situation, so when the bruised hero arrived at the old diner in Queens, Ned was ecstatic.  The gathering was small, made up of a few of Ned’s friends from college and members of the Decathlon team that were still in the city.

“You know, we would have gotten more tips if you hadn’t snapped at that big guy,” MJ pointed out as the two of you split the tips you earned waitressing at the diner before it closed.  The two of you were the ones that managed to get the owner to agree to let you have the party at the diner, and you hadn’t taken a moment to change out of the blue V-neck t-shirts bearing the colorful logo of the diner.  You had taken the chance to abandon your black aprons, revealing your mid-thigh length black skirt and her black jeans.

Sure, you had to help the four-foot-tall owner who looked closer to 50 than his age of _28_ find a date, but it was worth it.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you apologized as you finished splitting your tips, each of you taking your half, “I had it handled, but then he started bitching about his spaghetti and complimented my boobs, so I asked where his neck was, asked where he brought his bra, and told him he’d get the meatballs to stuff his panties in a few minutes.”

MJ nodded as she tucked her tips into her backpack, understanding now that she knew the entire story, “Alright, he had it coming.”

“Oh, I am aware,” you replied confidently, the two of you giggling as you got up to pull a few of the beers you and MJ bought out off the otherwise unused fridge underneath the diner counter.  People had started filtering in for the party, wishing Ned a happy birthday and setting up the card or board games they brought.  You were playing a pretty intense game of _Cludo_ when Peter arrived, and it wasn’t until MJ emerged victorious that you were able to pull yourself away to get another drink, and bumped into Peter.

“Oh my god, Peter,” you greeted with a hug, standing on your toes in your black and white low-tops to hug the boy.  In heels you were closer to his height, only about a fraction of an inch shorter at most, but in flats you were a solid four inches shorter.  You asked how he was doing as you led him over to the counter, pulling a chilled beer out of the fridge and placing it on the counter.  You were leaning over to grab the bottle opener as Peter just pulled the cap off the bottle, catching you off guard.  Last you talked Peter was far more careful with using his powers, you hadn’t expected him to use his super-strength to just yank the cap off.  Giving him another look, you realized he wasn’t wearing oversized layers of shirts anymore either.  His white NASA t-shirt wasn’t what you’d call form-fitting, but the way it hung off him gave the impression he was in shape.

“You look like you’re doing well, I mean you did back…um,” you flustered quickly to clean up after the mess you almost made, “You just look more confidant, is all.”

“No, I just know how to fake it better,” Peter joked after taking a drink, lowering his bottle as he explained, “I trained with Barton and Romanoff for a bit, then they pawned me off to Barnes after I, uh…”

You recalled the identities of Hawkeye and Black Widow, but Barnes was, “Wait, the World War II hero POW turned Winter Soldier turned new Captain America?  What the hell happened?”

“Remember how you kept telling me I’m stronger than we all think?” Peter asked nervously, recalling your continuing debate that if Peter’s hypothesis was correct, his strength was proportionate to the _radiated spider_ that bit him and not a _regular spider_ , “You may have been kinda…right…”

“What was your first hint?  That ferry you kept from falling apart or the demolished building you lifted in high school?  The bus you flipped over like a pancake last year?  The jet you _picked up_ two years ago?”  You listed off a few of the instances that proved your point, the last two you saw on the news, your tone deadpan as you raised your brow and your lips quirked into a crooked smirk.

“Alright, alright, you were right,” Peter admitted, smiling and chuckling a bit, sitting in the nearest stool and leaning forward.  He was spending _way_ too much time with Bucky, or he wasn’t as over you as he thought…or both.

Probably both.

Knowing his luck, it was both.

“Good, now remember that for next time we have a debate,” you teased as you grabbed a few chips from one of the many bags that had been brought by other guests, “ _[Y/N] is always right.”_

“I was a little focused on the _don’t piss [Y/N] off_ rule, first time I did that you wrestled me down and made me eat grass,” Peter defended, grinning as he laughed, recalling your early years together.  He was more relieved the two of you could just sit and talk, than anything else.  Perhaps it had just been long enough, maybe neither of you were the dumb teenagers you used to be, whatever the reason Peter was going to cling to it and hope he was able to continue his life with you in it.  Whether you were his friend or something more, it didn’t matter.  He just…he missed you…three years later and he still missed you like _hell_.

He had to keep you safe, but-

“So, there’s a Star Wars marathon at the discount theatre down the street in three weeks.  Ned and MJ are busy, and I don’t really wanna go alone, you wanna go with me?” you brought up as you mentally kicked yourself for even bringing it up.  You recently finished your undergrad and were on your way to working your way through finishing _two_ PhD’s at the same damn time.  You didn’t have time to be going out to movies, you were planning on staying in and working on your dissertations, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Yeah, that sounds great!” Peter jumped on the offer immediately, completely ignoring the fact he was supposed to be training on Sunday.  He’d come up with an excuse, maybe he’d get lucky and Bucky’s arm wouldn’t be back to normal yet.  Hell, he’d never get that lucky, maybe he’d just come clean and tell Bucky he had a date…well, it wasn’t really a date, but Bucky didn’t need to know that.  To hell with it, he’d figure it out.

“Yes!  Thank you!” you cheered, jumping in your excitement before picking up your beer from its spot on the counter and stepping around to make your way to the Trivial Pursuit game being set up in a nearby booth, “Come on, they’re setting up Trivial Pursuit and I have to defend my title as the reigning champion.”

MJ and Ned had been watching from a distance as they pretended to help set up the game, from the second you greeted Peter with a hug and started to talk.  MJ couldn’t help but comment as they watched, keeping her voice low enough that only Ned could hear, “That’s either going to go really good or really, _really_ bad.”

“I’m hoping for really good,” Ned replied just before you and Peter slipped into the booth and everyone split up into teams of two.  You and MJ continued to dominate the game, though Peter and Ned kept you on your toes.  You kept in touch, as often as possible, as the two of you planned your movie night and jokes about costumes became legitimate.  You hadn’t been able to find the boots you needed for your costume, but to be fair everyone seemed to forget that Leia was wearing boots instead of sandals or flats when she was in the gold bikini.  You could have easily gone for the costume you wore last year, but you had been working out and felt confident enough to wear the costume in public.

At least, that was before you started pacing your apartment when Peter was a no-show.  MJ was going right to a family gathering after work, and Ned was tied up with his job in the computer repair shop on campus, and you weren’t about to go walk around in public half-naked and _alone._   You were mentally kicking yourself, you couldn’t believe Peter would actually be willing to spend an entire day with you after three years of just _disappearing_ from your life!  You were so _stupid!_   If you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t be about to-

“Jesus!” you jumped when you were brought out of your mental ranting, berating yourself for being so stupid, until you turned to the window that rattled as someone knocked on it.  You rushed over, sliding the window open and letting Peter _fall_ into the small apartment you shared with MJ before you slammed the window shut and pulled Peter’s mask off.

“Sorry, this was the closest place and I – _ugh,”_ Peter groaned as he sat up, his hand going directly to the bruise on his rib, though it felt like he had a bone bruise hidden underneath the violet hue his flesh had taken.  To be fair, it was either getting hit with a metal bat or _shot_.  He let out another pained grunt as you helped him up and through the small apartment to your room, letting him collapse onto the queen-sized mattress on your bedroom floor – neither you nor MJ had enough money or time to buy bed frames.  You instructed Peter to get his suit off, so you could check his injuries before dashing off to the bathroom and kitchen to get Ziploc bags of ice and the old first aid kit you put together out of nervousness when you first found out Peter was Spider-Man.

“This is gonna sting,” you warned before pressing the sterile gauze dabbed with hydrogen peroxide to the laceration on Peter’s upper arm.  It wasn’t as deep as it first appeared, and you were able to carefully place some butterfly bandages as you kept Peter’s fast healing in mind.  He wouldn’t heal immediately, but the bleeding was likely to stop within the next hour or so.  From there you checked the state of his rib, making sure it was only bruised and not cracked or broken before carefully placing a bag of ice on it and guiding Peter to lie down.

“Sorry, the call came over the police scanner and-“

“You’re Spider-Man, you needed to save the day and things got complicated,” you cut Peter off as you grabbed the bottle of leftover pain pills from your dislocated shoulder in your junior year of high school.  The doctor gave you a whole bottle when you only needed a few to last the week, but you still stashed them away in case they were needed.  You grabbed the water bottle you grabbed from the fridge and coaxed Peter into taking the meds, leaving him under the impression they were just Tylenol until they started to kick in.  He wanted to be mad about it, but he started giggling as he tried to glare at you.

“You look pretty in your costume,” Peter complimented with a silly grin as he absentmindedly toyed with the edges of your skirt.  You were standing nearby, pulling an old t-shirt and shorts out of your dresser to change.

“Thanks,” you smiled and giggled at the goofy grin on Peter’s face, pulling away long enough to change in the bathroom before sitting on your mattress to work on schoolwork on your laptop.  It was harder than it sounded, with the mostly naked hero scooting over to you and landing his head directly in your lap before wrapping his arms snugly around your waist.  He was muttering some things in his pain-pill induced nap.  You tried to work for two hours, uncomfortably hunched over Peter until your back ached no matter what position you were in.  Eventually you just gave up, moving your laptop to plug it in and play something on Netflix as you laid back and tried to figure out what to do with your hands.  Was it awkward to put your hand on Peter’s back?  If he had a shirt, or really any clothes besides his boxers, you wouldn’t have thought twice but now that he’s half-naked…

Peter couldn’t remember a time he slept so well, at least not since he first got his powers.  The aches and pains were mostly gone when he slowly got up, the bruise on his side already turning yellow and the cut on his arm was scabbing over.  He must have been asleep for a few hours, based on the night sky that now blanketed the city just outside your bedroom window.  He pulled his arms away from you, lifting himself in a mock push-up as he looked down at you, your makeup cleaned off and your hair pulled out of the styled braid, and eyes a bit sleepy from waking up.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, you didn’t know who made the first move, all you knew was your lips met in a heated kiss as you tangled your hand into his hair and his hands trailed up your t-shirt.  The heated kiss turned slow, comfortable and almost lazy as the two of you rolled over onto your sides and cuddled as you smiled into the lazy kisses until MJ bumped your bedroom door open, still cracked open from when you left to change.

“Jesus Christ, close the door would you?” MJ snapped, turning around and leaving as she muttered under her breath, closing the door behind her.  She had utterly ruined the moment, causing you and Peter to slowly pull away from each other, untangling your limbs before Peter got up and grabbed his suit and mask from the floor.

“I should…I should probably get going…” Peter awkwardly excused himself as he slid back into his suit, hitting the spider in the center to snap the suit to its skintight form.  He started to make his way to your bedroom window, stopping as he tried to find something to say before he left, yanking on his mask to give himself the courage to ask a risky question.

“Would you wanna…go on a date this weekend?”  He took a risk, a pretty dangerous one, and waited for your answer as time seemed to stand still.  He watched as you bit your bottom lip and nodded, smiling adorably.  Peter’s grin returned.

“It’s a date,” he promised, climbing out of your bedroom window before making his way back to his own apartment.  He couldn’t help his cheers and laughter as he swung from web to web through the city.

Despite Peter’s revelry, Karen couldn’t quite help but speak up after Peter _finally_ made a move.

_“I told you she’d say yes.”_

_So baby pull me closer in the backseat of your Rover_

_That I know you can’t afford_

_Bite that tattoo on your shoulder_

_Pull the sheets right off the corner_

_Of the mattress that you stole_

_From your roommate back in boulder_

_We ain’t ever getting older_

_…_

_We ain’t ever getting older_

_No we ain’t ever getting older_


	3. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were dating your best friend, someone you felt incomplete without, but that didn't mean your struggles in saying those three little words just went away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't exactly plan a third part. I mean I knew it was a possibility, but there were no solid plans.
> 
> So, here it is. The super sappy ending. Leave it to an Ed Sheeran song to get us here.
> 
> By the way, the whole cupid thing is creepy as hell. What the hell is romantic about a naked dead baby with a weapon?

# Roses

### Perfect

 

_I found a love for me_

_Darling just dive right in_

_And follow my lead_

_Well I found a girl beautiful and sweet_

_I never knew you were the someone waiting for me_

_'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_

 

It was his way of celebrating your internship – _paid_ internship – which meant you could finally afford to leave that diner.  You loved the people you worked with, but you weren’t a big fan of working every moment you weren’t in class just so you could make enough to afford your apartment.  Then there were the missed weekends.  With this internship you were paid nearly twice as much per hour and had weekends off.  To top things off, you didn’t need to worry about paying for school anymore.

Tony Stark and his multitude of programs for struggling college students were nothing but blessings upon the world.

You weren’t too sure about him after he recruited Peter, and especially after Captain America was named a fugitive – considering the last time that happened it was because Hydra had taken control of S.H.I.E.L.D – but you gave him a second chance when he started paying your college tuition…and after you _met_ him.  It had been a _tense_ moment, especially considering Peter had asked if you wanted to help with a few ideas he had for upgrades to his suit.  You were going to be taking a few days off to go to the Avengers Compound in Upstate New York, but you weren’t going to turn that down.  Then you ended up in a standoff, you with your hair a mess and wearing your wide-frame glasses after deciding to leave your contacts back in the city and Tony in yesterday’s Black Sabbath t-shirt and a cup of coffee in hand.  Tony was always curious just what Peter was doing in the lab, especially when it came to the suit, and after making sure Peter wasn’t going to hurt himself and didn’t want any help, the billionaire left his protégé to his devices.

Normally Peter managed well enough on his own, this was the first time he saw Peter working with someone on the suit.

The most uncomfortable part had to be when Sam and Bucky stepped in just to ask Peter who he would bet on, if it came to an actual fight.  Peter knew the answer, it was the look of betrayal he wasn’t looking forward to when he said you would win, _hands down._

Now the two of you were dashing through Central Park, the surprise picnic Peter had made for you desperately stashed back into Peter’s backpack as you tried to reach cover from the sudden downpour.  You had your black flats in hand, having slid them off to pull Peter into a dance as _When I Dance With You_ by The Pains of Being Pure at Heart started playing as part of the playlist Peter had put together on his phone.  Then Peter froze before pulling you back to the picnic and packing up.  You recognized when he was acting on instinct, reacting to his _Spidy Senses_ as you liked to call them, and by the time you were reaching the edge of the park the downpour started.

By the time you reached his small apartment, your short peach dress was soaked and Peter’s t-shirt was clinging to him as the two of you leaned back against the door.

“Fuck the weatherman,” you cursed as you caught your breath, you weren’t close to the kind of shape Peter was in, but you weren’t about to slow down and be stuck in the rain.  Sure, you could have stopped and waited it out in a nearby shop, but you had dry clothes at Peter’s apartment.  The two of you giggled at your curse before you looked up at your _partner in crime_ to see he’d been watching you with those soft brown eyes and a look you’d seen your grandfather give your grandmother every day.

“You…you stop that.”  Your order wasn’t a strong one and you couldn’t tell if your shiver was because you were cold and wet or because that was the first time – that you knew of – that anyone had looked at you with that much unadulterated adoration before.  Peter had given you that look before, but he’d always hid it from you.  This time he just couldn’t look away.

“Stop what?”  His smile gave him away, he knew what you were talking about, but he just played ignorant and kept on looking at you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and moving to stand in front of you.  He watched as you watched him, your eyes wide as you frantically tried to figure out _why_ you wanted Peter to stop.  He could almost see the wheels turning in your head.  Did you feel the same way?  How long until you could return with a look like that?  Could you already?  How were you even supposed to know when you were ready to use the _l-word._

The _l-word_ – _love –_ was a big deal to you.  After your parents’ divorce, you were very careful about it.  You may have dated around, but you had never _once_ claimed to love your former boyfriends and your reluctance to use the word had inevitably been what started the end of those relationships.  Peter, on the other hand, knew exactly why you were so careful and was willing to wait an entire century – _longer_ even – if that’s how long it took to hear you say it.  It didn’t matter.  He loved you.  He was head-over-heels deeply in love with you.  A real love, not a youthful misconception or confusion of physical attraction, or preferring someone’s company above other people, or whatever hormonal teenagers and youthful 20-somethings thought love was.  The kind of love where he didn’t just love you in _spite_ of your flaws, but even when you were being the most _frustrating_ thing in his world he couldn’t help but admire something about what you were doing.

“Looking at me like that…you know I can’t say – “

“I know,” Peter cut you off, taking your hands in his and leaning his forehead against yours as he looked in your eyes, “It’s okay, I’ll wait.”

“I’m sorry,” you felt tears gathering in your eyes as the guilt bubbled up.  Guilt and fear that this was going to be the beginning of the end, like all the others.

“No, no, don’t…” Peter’s brow furrowed as he pulled away slightly to place his hand on your cheek, “You take the _l-word_ seriously, you want to make sure you mean it.  I love that about you.”

You looked back up at your boyfriend, growing more comfortable with the way he was looking at you with such raw emotion, and smiled.  You’d had boyfriends tell you they were comfortable with waiting, but that only lasted until the next weekend when you still didn’t say the words after he paid for dinner and the movie.  When Peter said he’d wait…you actually believed him.  You knew he wasn’t going to turn around and demand you say words you didn’t mean just to boost his ego.

And he did wait.  It had been an entire month since he said those three little words, and he had come up with the idea to go to Coney Island for the day – at least until the city needed Spider-Man again.  You were a little hesitant, but decided to believe Peter as he repeatedly promised that he would tell you if those previously broken ribs started to hurt again.  Accelerated healing or not, you were still going to fuss over him.

The two of you did every cliché couple activity possible, including the _Tunnel of Love_ where the two of you were too busy giggling to get into the ‘romantic mood.’  It was just so stupidly cliché that you couldn’t help but laugh, it was one Celine Dion song away from making you _barf_ at how stupid it was.  Thank god you were there with Peter who, despite originally planning on making out with you during the entire ride, pulled away and couldn’t help but make a face at the little cupids lining the walls.

“You alright?” you pulled away.  Sure, it was a stupid ride, but it _was_ a great place to make out and you weren’t going to let the fact that it was stupid distract you from the wonderous experience that was making out with Peter Parker.

“Why does everyone think naked baby archers with wings is romantic?  It’s _creepy_ ,” Peter narrowed his eyes at the cupid decorations suspiciously, like he expected them to actually come to life and _shoot him_.  He knew they wouldn’t, but that didn’t change the fact that they _creeped him the hell out._   His attention was brought away from the decorations as you started giggling, your grip on his green plaid button-up becoming less about making out and more about holding yourself up as you leaned your forehead against his chest.  All intentions of making out were forgotten when you announced, through your giggles, just why _swans_ shouldn’t be considered part of the _romantic mood_ either.

“I was bitten by a swan when I was a kid, it chased me around the pond cause I ran out of bread and they’ve made me nervous ever since,” you explained through your giggles, making Peter start giggling with you, sitting back in the boat and pulling you close to his side as the two of you started roasting _everything_ in the ride.  Some of the jokes even including the fact that it was a _boat ride,_ and if Titanic – the movie everyone considered to be the most romantic movie – ended in complete disaster, maybe you should stay away from the boats.

You’d even waited until sunset to go on the Wonder Wheel, but found yourselves playing _I Spy_ instead of cuddling and talking about how romantic it was.  At least, until you turned to face Peter, who was grinning as the light of the park sparkled in his warm chocolate eyes.  You couldn’t believe it.  So few people actually had the luck of their best friend falling in love with them, but for you to be able to fall in love with your best friend as well…

“I love you, Pete.”  You were quiet, almost shy, as you said words you’d never said to _anyone_ before.  Even to your family it was a casual _‘love you,’_ as you left.  You knew he returned your feelings, he had been the one to take the leap first, but you still felt your heart nervously fluttering as you watched with nervous eyes as Peter’s goofy grin fell into something softer, adoring, and his eyes shined in that same raw emotion that once made you so nervous.  He cupped your cheeks and brought you into a deeply loving kiss, gently letting you feel his adoration for you as the both of you smiled into the kiss.  You reached up to clutch at his shirt, one hand placed over the t-shirt underneath as you felt Peter’s heartbeat quickening.

He grinned as he pressed his forehead against yours, looking directly into your eyes as he whispered against your lips.

“I love you too.”

_Not knowing what it was_

_I will not give you up this time_

_But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own_

_And in your eyes you're holding mine_


End file.
